Stories of the Past
by ConsultantsOf221b
Summary: A private audience with the King is not so common. And a bit of cuddling is even less so. Thranduil X Reader (reader-insert) Oneshot with shameless fluff


It had been a long day. You were heading to your room when a guard approached you and told you the king requested your presence. You were tired beyond belief but would do anything for the king. You loved him more than life itself. So you made your way down the halls and to the throne of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood.

As the large doors opened for you, you entered the room and looked up at Thranduil who had his eyes fixed on you. Adorned in a silvery robe that trailed onto the ground and surrounded by a massive cloak made of a silk the color of autumn leaves, Thranduil looked absolutely stunning. You were blushing just thinking about him.

"You are dismissed." he said to the guards, who promptly took their leave.

You stopped in front of the stairs that led up to the throne. Realizing your hesitation, Thranduil motioned for you to come forward. Slowly, you made your way up the stairs. He stretched out a hand towards you and you took it, quite unsure if it was the right thing to do. He pulled you toward him and scooped you up in one fluid motion so you were seated on his lap.

"I don't remember you being so shy, meleth nín. Since when did you fear coming to me alone?" he asked quietly.

"I-I um" you stutter in reply, your words barely more than a whisper. You took in your surroundings. You were sitting in his lap with his arms wrapped around your waist. You felt like a small child despite being full-grown.

He smiled at your hesitant answer and brushed a strand of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your pointed ear.

"I want to tell you a story, meleth nín." Thranduil said, gently pulling you closer from where you sat, rigid as a board. You allowed him to cradle you against his chest and you rested your head on his shoulder. You smiled a little at his eagerness to be closer to you. You breathed in and your head was filled with the warm musk of autumn leaves and a scent that was distinctive of the Elven King. It was a comforting feeling being held and the way Thranduil began running thin strands of your hair through his fingers only intensified the feeling.

As you sat quietly, Thranduil began his story, one that began with him battling the Serpents of the North and recounting his injury to you with vivid detail. You felt sickened after hearing the pain he endured but continued to listen. He told you of other great battles he had fought in and the horrors he had witnessed. By the end of his stories, you were shaking slightly as tears slowly dripped down your face.

Thranduil noticed your distress and wrapped his arms around you in a soothing hug, one hand resting on your back, the other cradling your head. He waited a moment before reaching to wrap his silky robe around you like an oversized blanket. He gently brushed a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb and looked sadly at you.

"I am sorry for upsetting you. Truly."

You nod in reply. You know he isn't saying these things to upset you. You imagine living with the weight he carries would be difficult and you can see why he wanted to tell you all of this. But it does hurt to see him in pain.

"Thranduil, melamin?" you ask gently "Will you close your eyes for a moment?"

He does as you instruct and you reach up to cup his cheek in your hand. You lean in towards his face and brush your noses together, mostly to let him know of your proximity. His breathing is slightly shallower than before and you lean in, pressing your lips to his. Your eyes stay open for a moment, gauging his reaction. He visibly relaxes and wraps his arms around you, moving his hands to gently tangle into your hair. And he's kissing you back and it's all warmth and a smoothness that only the Elven King could be capable of. It's soft but has a passion behind it that could never in the lifetime of any elf be replicated. Slowly, Thranduil pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes.

"I love you." he breathes and kisses the top of your head, pulling you back to your resting place nestled in his robe, cuddled against his chest.

"I love you too, melamin."

In a state of pure elation, you close your eyes and listen as Thranduil sings to you softly. You find your mind going fuzzy as sleep washes over you, cradled in the arms of the Elven King.

"Dream good dreams, meleth nín." he says as he places a gentle kiss to your temple as you drift off.


End file.
